


take my hand, let's see where we wake up tomorrow

by bigeunbi



Category: PRISTIN (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 11:56:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13235241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigeunbi/pseuds/bigeunbi
Summary: She doesn’t know what Minkyung wants to hear (she can’t read minds and in moments like this, it’d help a lot) but she can at least speak from the heart. Even if she’s not looking for answers from Nayoung, even if she’s simply thinking aloud and Nayoung just happen to be there—just this much, Nayoung believes, is good enough.





	take my hand, let's see where we wake up tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> reflecting on what's happened and what's to come is a staple to the new year.
> 
> i have a lot of naminky feelings please talk to me about them @rorangie_

It’s cold outside. Nayoung herds the little ones through the doorway two by two, counting heads as they pass into the threshold of their dorm apartment, stops short when she notices Yebin by herself at the end of the line and realizes she’s only counted seven heads. Yebin glances at her as she steps in, a look in her eyes and a nudge of her head gesturing behind her. Then the door closes with a soft click.

Nayoung looks.

“It’s freezing,” she murmurs as she steps up, settles next to Minkyung’s figure with her hands stuffed inside her pockets. She’s stating the obvious here, but it doesn’t seem like Minkyung’s really realized it just yet. If she stays out here any longer, she’ll catch a cold. For good persuasive measure, she adds: “The others are already inside. I think Kyungwonnie is going to make some late night ramen, if you want any.”

That earns her a chuckle; the kind that only Minkyung can do that sounds a little bit like Santa Claus, _ho-ho-hos_ that are full and come from the bottom of her diaphragm, a laugh that is uniquely Minkyung’s. Her eyes crinkle, too, at the corners but even though she laughs with her eyes closed Nayoung knows there is still mirth twinkling behind those eyelids.

Minkyung doesn’t look at her when she replies. “It’s over, just like that, huh?” she asks, but Nayoung has a feeling that the question isn’t directed at her. She catches a glimpse of cloudy fog from Minkyung’s lips, hears a sigh that lingers in the cold air. There is something reflective in her tone. Nayoung only sees this introspective side of her sub-leader when she is alone.

“Time flies.”

“Doesn’t feel like a new year, though. Maybe it’s because we had work when the clock struck twelve.” Minkyung muses, “The magic is gone when you’re not staying up and anticipating it.”

“It’ll probably be like this next year, and the year after that. Work on the holidays doesn’t seem so unlikely.”

“Which is a good thing.” A hum buzzes on Minkyung’s lips.

The taller girl’s lips curl up into a small smile. Nayoung doesn’t read it as happiness; the curve of her lips and the way her eyes close when she smiles give a sense of mystery, like she really doesn’t know what Minkyung is thinking. They’ve known each for years, and yet Nayoung cannot read Minkyung’s expression very well. She’s lacking as a leader, she thinks, as a friend.

“You don’t sound so happy about it,” Nayoung points out carefully, slowly.

“Well,” Minkyung starts, leans forward so her arms perch on top of the veranda’s railing and keeps her gaze overseeing the Seoul lights twinkling in the distance, “I’m not _unhappy_ about it.”

Before she can ask to inquire further, Minkyung keeps talking, an answer to her question somewhere in the middle of her thoughts. Nayoung mirrors her stance, arms resting on the railing and admires the sight of Seoul on the horizon while she listens with an open mind, an open heart.

“A lot happened, so I guess I’m only processing it all now. I don’t know where the time went. Our last concert as trainees, our debut, our first comeback, a Rookie award that we had only dreamed of up until this point... It’s a lot in one year, right? It gets me thinking, are we going to be as successful or even more so next year?”

It sounds less like an explanation to her and more like Minkyung is trying to figure things out for herself, talking as her method for organizing her own thoughts. Nayoung remains quiet, taking in the sights behind the veranda and the sound of Minkyung’s voice, let’s her take her time. The others might be waiting for them inside, wondering what they’re still doing out in the cold, but if Minkyung needs someone to hear her out, then all she can do is keep herself available.

Minkyung’s figure shifts. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watches the taller girl’s back lean against the railing. Her profile is handsome as always; and even in dim lighting, she can make out the small details of her face like the fluttering of Minkyung’s long eyelashes, the shape of her nose that curves perfectly down to her lips, an easygoing smile still present but reads contemplative.

“Looking back, we all had our doubts. I didn’t know what I was going to do if things didn’t work out here, if our boss hadn’t set a plan in motion for us after the survival show... Who knows if I’d give up or keep going. I still don’t know what I’d have done. Past Minkyung didn’t leave a lot of room for answers to future Minkyung’s questions about _‘what ifs’_ and _‘what would haves’_.”

There’s a light laugh that ends Minkyung’s train of thought, different from the hearty Santa Claus that Nayoung is so accustomed to hearing. It’s hollow, like it’s only meant to fill in the silence that befalls between them when Minkyung goes back to her thoughts to organize herself again. Nayoung doesn’t laugh back, but she doesn’t think it’s right to stay silent, either.

“Maybe that’s okay,” she turns her head back to look back out to the Seoul skyline, “that you didn’t know, that you still don't know. We can’t expect to know the answers to all our questions, past, future, or present. We can’t know everything, as much as we want to.”

Nayoung has had her own share of worries, equal in uncertainty as Minkyung’s and perhaps even more when she accounts for how much weight is on her shoulders. The uncertainty is familiar and she sympathizes; but she’s not going to tell Minkyung that. They both know how they’re feeling without saying a word. At this point, there are a lot of unspoken truths between the two of them.

So it’s not one of those unspoken truths that Minkyung needs to hear. Nayoung knows that much. What exactly needs to be said, on the other hand, is lost on her.

She doesn’t know what Minkyung wants to hear (she can’t read minds and in moments like this, it’d help a lot) but she can at least speak from the heart. Even if she’s not looking for answers from Nayoung, even if she’s simply thinking aloud and Nayoung just happen to be there—just this much, Nayoung believes, is good enough.

She turns to face Minkyung again and this time—this time she makes sure that their eyes lock, that she keeps Minkyung’s gaze on hers and that it does not waver, does not move away.

Minkyung looks.

“I think the best thing for us to do is to hold hands, and keep walking.” She lets the corner of her lips curl up, watches as Minkyung's does the same as soon as she recognizes the familiar words. She's spewing words that have not been thought through, but on instinct she thinks it'll be okay, and so she continues. “We don't know what's going to happen next year, but if we take all the things that happened to us, good and bad, and keep them tucked into our pockets, we'll have everything we need to tackle anything that comes our way.”

She says everything that comes to mind first, unsure if they're the right words to say; she hides part of her face against her scarf to keep Minkyung from seeing her face flush (from the cold and from being slightly embarrassed at how much she's spoken), but Nayoung hears the familiar Santa Claus laugh that she loves, and figures that it's a good sign.

“Spoken like a true leader,” comes Minkyung's voice, and it's the first time since they've started talking on the veranda that she has heard the smile come through her words, “you know exactly what to say.”

“Not really,” Nayoung confesses lamely, “I thought of it all on the spot.”

“Shh—don't say anything. You'll ruin the moment, Narong, I'm complimenting you.”

“I think the cold's getting to you. Come on, it's freezing. Let's head inside.”

A brisk wind blows past them, brushes Nayoung's hair into her face and she spits out the strands that get stuck in her mouth. Minkyung shivers, wrapping an arm around herself in an act to keep warm as she moves away from the veranda's railing. She looks at Minkyung's back as the other girl stands in front of the dorm's door.

“Thanks,” Minkyung murmurs, without looking back at her, “for staying out here with me.”

Nayoung can't help but reach her hand out, places it gently onto Minkyung's free hand that lingers at her side, squeezes it between her cold fingers and smiles when she feels warmth shared between their hands. She looks at her fondly.

“We've worked hard this year. Let's do our best next year, too.”

Minkyung opens the door.

“And for the years to come.”

They step inside.


End file.
